In Search of Swank: From Crooning to Cocktails : The county has its share of moody piano bars with their low lighting, vinyl booths and soothing retro melodies.

The piano has been drinking, not me.

--Tom Waits

A good piano bar is hard to find. Scouting out any piano bar in Ventura County can be tricky. The Yellow Pages are useless. They offer Karaoke and Cocktail Lounges, Nightclubs and Coffeehouses. But when it comes to key-tickling crooners, nothing. The listings skip from Pianos to Picnic Grounds.

We all know how to find--or avoid--canned music, grinding rock and throbbing beats. But where to go for the comfort of a slick-tongued, smooth-toned piano man? For a dose of Sinatra-style sounds? Isn’t everybody in the mood, once in a while, for the dreamy lift of a little “Body and Soul,” “As Time Goes By” or “Makin’ Whoopee?”

There was a time when piano bars were almost as easy to come by as a cocktail. That was back in the days when socializing and bar-stool warming were more acceptable endeavors. And the people who love the piano bar style were young enough to indulge in regular nights on the town.

Nowadays just a handful of piano bars remain, scattered across the county in unlikely places. They bear no resemblance to the brash and trendy L.A. lounges, crawling with fickle scenesters. No, these are moody, low-key places where the patrons return with Cheers-like regularity. Of the five I visited, each has its own character--and characters, which I will get to shortly.

But first, some basic piano bar criteria. There are lots of places where you can hear somebody pound a keyboard, but it takes something more to qualify as a bona fide piano bar.

A piano, or some convincing electronic imitation, must be the dominant instrument. The player must be a regular, appearing week-in and week-out at the same locale. That person must croon--not well, necessarily, but the effort has to be there. And to complete the scene, the piano must be situated within easy staggering distance of a good liquor supply.

There are a few secondary characteristics, not imperative but certainly adding to the piano bar vibe: low lights, a dance floor, deep red banquettes and a jumbo-size cognac glass for tips.

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The banquettes at McCarthy’s are baby blue, but other than that, the Camarillo restaurant meets every piano bar standard and more. Player Loren Richards sports a tuxedo shirt, white bow tie and an easy smile. He’s been playing by ear for 50 years and will “only perform songs by people who are dead.”

The setting is intimate. Richards performs without a microphone, and the piano sits within arm’s reach of white-clothed dinner tables. This is good for Richards, who will sing in a pinch, but prefers to leave the warbling to his enthusiastic regulars.

“I would rather be playing the piano than anything else in the world,” he says. “Playing for people who really enjoy what I’m doing makes it all worthwhile.”

Topmost among them is Paula Jones, a Camarillo music therapist who shows up every week to belt out a few numbers in a rich, almost operatic voice. On a recent Friday night, Jones and three friends settle in at the head table.

Taking her cues from Richards, the classically trained singer launches into “Can’t Help Lovin’ that Man of Mine.”

Fish gotta swim and birds gotta fly.

I’ve gotta love one man ‘til I die.

Can’t help lovin’ that man of mine.

Mid-song, a waiter stops by to take the dinner order. Without missing a beat, Jones holds up the menu and selects an entree, even finding time to throw a “thanks, honey” at the waiter between stanzas.

By all rights, Jones should get paid for her performance, which draws enthusiastic applause from dozens of diners. But for Jones, the enjoyment comes in doing it for fun. “I could do it for pay, but then it would be work,” she says. “This way it is pure enjoyment.”

Jones’ companions agree. She met Lorraine and Ted Radabaugh at McCarthy’s, and their love of the music has made them fast friends. Now they regularly share a table, and when Lorraine walks in, Richards acknowledges her entrance with a swinging rendition of “Sweet Lorraine.”

“You feel like a queen, you really do,” Lorraine says. “There’s just something so special about a place like this.”

The soup arrives just as Jones prepares to launch into “Summertime.” With steam rising from the bowl, Jones begins to sway. She throws her head back and moans.

Your daddy’s rich, and your mama’s good lookin’ .

So hush little baby, don’t you cry.

*

A little weeping would fit right in at Azar’s Red Robin in Newbury Park, where the sound is heavily influenced by country and the blues.

Opened in a strip mall several years ago by Lebanese immigrant Michael Azar, the place is a curious mix of sports and piano bar. There are seven TVs stationed around the windowless dining/bar area. Jock posters fill the walls, and a crowd of athletic-looking guys in shorts and sneakers guzzle brews at the bar.

But at 8:30 p.m. Greg Barton appears, and slowly the transformation begins. The televisions are silenced, the lights dimmed and older couples appear, quickly filling the half-dozen red vinyl booths.

Barton takes his seat behind an elaborate synthesizer setup, and the banter begins.

“Hi, Greg! You’re not going to start with ‘Kokomo’ again, are you?”

“Oh, Willa, you don’t like ‘Kokomo?’ OK, I’ll start with something else tonight. How’s Georgette doing?”

Soon Barton launches into “Blue Bayou” and the crowd applauds appreciatively.

Classically trained, Barton takes pride in having always been able to support himself by playing the piano. Over the years, he’s worked with various bands, doing a brief stint with the Lettermen but quitting when the frequent travel wore him out.

Now his dream is to write original musical scores “in the Barry Manilow/Neil Diamond/Engelbert Humperdinck kind of ballpark.”

But for now, Barton makes do with Azar’s. When he heads into “Lady in Red,” the tiny parquet dance floor fills with couples who spin and sway in perfect time.

It helps that Barton’s rhythm is flawless. When he decides to add a number to his repertoire, he hunts down a popular recording of it and studies it carefully. He then copies it, track by track, on his home recording system. He plays these tapes as backup music when he performs.

“People are very picky,” he says. “They expect a song to sound a certain way. If it doesn’t, they get disappointed.”

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That sort of repetition would drive Valerie Larsen crazy. Ten years ago, she chipped in with her dad and bought the Wagon Wheel Restaurant in Oxnard. Now she sits at the piano four nights a week, sipping sweet red drinks as she concocts new ways to play old songs.

“I hate to hear a song the same way twice,” she says. “I like it turned inside out. When I first hear a song, I love it. Then I hear it again and I’m already bored. So I go from country to jazz to salsa to polka.”

Case in point: One recent evening the lineup included “Take Me to the River,” “Unforgettable” and “Tequila!”

Larsen says she knows more than 1,000 songs by heart--she never pulls out the sheet music on the job. “A cook knows how to cook,” she says. “They don’t have to look at the book all the time. It’s the same with me and music.”

Dressed casually in a pullover sweater with her red hair spilling over her shoulders, Larsen relaxes during a break. Perched on the piano: a clear red beverage called a Cobra.

“Sloe gin, orange juice, grenadine,” she says. “It really clears your throat and opens it up.”

Actually, Larsen isn’t supposed to sing at all. She has nodes on her vocal chords (like the one Gov. Pete Wilson had removed), and her doctor told her to take a year off. Maybe she will, eventually.

Until then, she gets occasional relief from friends who show up to play the saxophone or sing along. Sometimes she doesn’t play at all, instead chatting for hours with the regular crowd.

“We’ll exchange recipes, the newest book and find out all the gossip,” she says. “That’s the way it is at our place. And if somebody gets drunk, we’ll take them home. No problem.”

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Drunkenness doesn’t pose much of a problem at the Pierpont Inn bar, where the beverages of choice tend to decaf or milk.

This is about as un-piano-bar-like as a piano bar can get. The air is smoke-free, the track lighting bright and the supply of party mix in glass candy dishes unlimited. Fresh flowers brighten every table.

And Gil Rosas, a longtime musician who graces the piano bench three nights a week, takes umbrage at the term “piano player.”

“I’m a pianist, not a piano player,” he says. “Pianist is more distinctive. I like being called an artist.”

But somehow, the place still manages to capture the essence of piano bar-ness. In fact, it’s one of the few piano bars outfitted with a real piano--a brown baby grand that Rosas attacks with Liberace-like ardor.

Clad in a white dinner jacket, Rosas uses glissandi to add flourish to an energetic set. His ringed fingers slide into “If I Were a Rich Man” from “Fiddler on the Roof,” roll through “Just a Gigolo” and polish off “La Bamba” with a flourish. All of this pleases the crowd mightily. Some grab maracas and shake away, others just hum along.

“I represent what I call a more genteel musical period,” he says. “I don’t want to sound like an old-timer, but much of the stuff that comes out today really isn’t music at all.”

Yet Rosas himself is not above a little musical experimentation. When friends encouraged him to explore his Latin roots, he did. He recorded his favorites, which he now sells, in Spanish and English. Now he’s working on a tape of original New Age recordings.

“It’s not the kind of music you’d want to play in a club atmosphere, but there’s a real beauty to it,” he says. The club scene is just a part of the Rosas act; on Sundays he plays the organ at Ventura’s Trinity Lutheran Church. “I figure you party on Saturday night, and then atone come Sunday.”

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That philosophy is shared by Linda Fern Fay, a regular performer at Tony’s Steak and Seafood and the pipe organist at Oxnard’s First Presbyterian Church. I haven’t caught her church act, but at Tony’s, Fay jams.

When it comes to piano bars, Tony’s is about as close to an institution as Ventura County gets. Housed in a Tudor-style structure on Ventura’s Thompson Boulevard, the place doesn’t look like much from the outside.

But venture inside and you enter a world so comfortable and comforting that you’ll wonder what took so long to get there.

There’s the friendly waitress who calls you “Hon” and puts canned beets on your salad, unless you ask her not to (“They’re good for you, Hon”).

There’s Tony, the owner, strolling the cozy, booth-lined dining room, greeting regulars and tuning his saxophone for a late-night accompaniment.

There’s the mustachioed bartender, yukking it up with the customers, his wild wavy hair flying as he rushes to fill a crush of orders. And there’s Fay, expertly working her way through a wide-ranging repertoire, from “Girl from Ipanema” to “Moon River” to the Charlie Brown theme song. Twice a week she is joined by her husband, Don Fay, on drums and vibraphone.

The piano sound is clean and crisp. A mirror above Fay’s head puts her fingers on display as they fly over the keys of the Yamaha grand. “It’s an awesome instrument,” she says. “The best in the county.”

Fay should know. She holds a master’s degree in piano performance and teaches music theory, voice and music appreciation at Oxnard College. “In this business, versatility is the key,” she says. “You can make a living if you’re flexible.”

But it’s the piano bar style that is near and dear to Fay’s heart. “You’re up there playing for people who just love the music,” she says. “There’s really nothing else like it.”

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TIPS

Piano players and piano bars:

* Greg Barton, 8:30 p.m. to 1 a.m., Wednesdays through Saturdays, Azar’s Red Robin, 2215 Michael Drive, Newbury Park; 498-2365.

* Linda Fern Fay, 7:30 p.m. Thursdays and Sundays, 8 p.m. Fridays and Saturdays, Tony’s Steak and Seafood, 2009 E. Thompson Blvd., Ventura: 643-3322.

* Valerie Larsen, 7 p.m. Wednesdays and Thursdays, 9 p.m. Fridays and Saturdays, Wagon Wheel Restaurant, 2755 Wagon Wheel Road, Oxnard; 983-2599.

* Loren Richards, 6 to 9 p.m. Thursdays, 6 to 10 p.m. Fridays and Saturdays, McCarthy’s, 1101 Daily Drive, Camarillo; 388-5552.

* Gil Rosas, 6 to 9 p.m. Thursdays, 8 to 11 p.m. Fridays and Saturdays, Pierpont Inn, 550 Sanjon Road, Ventura; 653-6144.